The Avengers Go Camping (Rewrite)
by HeyAssButtImBatman
Summary: Loki really hated camping. Like, a lot. Being attacked, nearly dying, and having to rely on the Avengers, of all people, for survival didn't really raise his opinion of it.


The Avengers had decided to go camping.

Or rather, Thor wanted to test himself against the "meager might of Midgard's elements"; Clint went because he apparently loved camping; Natasha went because she hated being separated from the archer; Tony went to watch all the hilarity that would no doubt ensue; Bruce went because Tony did; Steve went to keep them from destroying each other or a forest; and Loki tagged along because he had no choice.

So that was how six Avengers plus one trickster god found themselves huddling in a cave in the middle of some Godforsaken forest during a thunderstorm. Granted, Thor could have easily redirected the storm, but that would have messed up the natural weather patterns of the world and none of them felt like having to prevent another global catastrophe.

"This sucks," Tony whined. It was late and they were all huddled up in their sleeping bags. None of them could sleep with all of the random thunderclaps and flashes of lightning.

Secretly, Loki agreed with Tony, not that he'd ever admit that out loud. He'd told them that this would be a bad idea, but had any of them listened? Nope, they just told him to stuff it and went anyway, dragging him kicking and screaming along for the ride.

"Yeah, it does," Clint agreed. He sighed as he sat down, back against the wall of the cave and sleeping bag draped around his shoulders like a blanket. "We could have gone to the beach or something, but no, we chose camping. Well, Thor chose camping."

"No one said you had to go with him," Natasha said irritably. Her red hair was frizzy from all of the humidity, and when Natasha's hair was anything but perfect, she got pissy.

"That goes for you, too," Clint retorted.

"Well, _someone_ had to keep you from doing something stupid."

"Wow. That's not a lot of trust, Tasha, especially for someone who is literally an agent of a _top secret government facility_ whose job is to continuously _save the world_."

"Come, friends!" Thor interrupted Natasha's reply, making everyone wince as his loud voice reverberated against the cave walls. "This is not so bad! What is a little rain to such mighty warriors such as ourselves?"

Loki sighed and closed his eyes, at least trying to tune Thor out. It was a hard task, sure, but Loki had learned centuries ago how to do it. He hadn't slept in thirty-six hours, give or take a few, and he was exhausted.

The Avengers had been making him use his magic to help with the rebuilding of the city that had been all but destroyed in the attack, and it had left him more drained than he cared to admit.

Everyone could see that Loki was suffering, they just couldn't see how much. They assumed that the stress of having five pissed off Avengers (and one pretty damn angry Thor) breathing down his back was finally getting to him.

Mercifully, Thor had stopped talking and Loki could finally try to get some sleep. The sound of rain beating down on the leaves and ground was strangely comforting, and he had almost drifted off when he felt _it._ His eyes snapped open and he peered out into the downpour outside of the cave.

He felt it again, a familiar tickle against his consciousness that meant there was magic being used nearby. Very suspicious, especially considering that any unauthorized "aliens", as the Midgardians called those of the other realms, were not allowed on Midgard without explicit permission.

"I'm going out," he announced, pulling himself to his feet. Without giving the Avengers a chance to reply, he walked out of the cave and into the rain. He became soaked almost immediately but he hardly noticed the cold. His Frost Giant lineage had always allowed him to withstand much lower temperatures than the Aesir could.

He had hardly gone ten feet when he heard pounding footsteps behind him and the familiar bulky hand of Thor slammed down onto his shoulder.

"Where are you going, brother?" Thor asked loudly. Loki rolled his eyes and shrugged Thor's hand off.

"The question is, where are _you_ going?" he asked. "I don't recall asking you to join me."

"Aye, you didn't," Thor conceded, "but you should know better than to wander off on your own. Who knows what these trees conceal?"

Loki bristled angrily. "I am not a child, Thor. I can take care of myself, and besides, nothing on this meager world has strength enough to kill me."

Another tickle against his consciousness distracted him for a moment and he let his eyes wander over the forest around them. This didn't go unnoticed by Thor.

"What is it? Do you sense something?"

"Maybe," Loki admitted. He shook his head to clear it of the thoughts swirling around in it and narrowed his eyes at Thor. "It is none of your concern. Go back to your Avengers and let me handle it."

"I cannot let you go alone, Loki. I know, perhaps better than anyone, that you are more than capable of taking care of yourself, but you are still a war prisoner," Thor reminded him.

Loki scoffed. "Fine. Come along if you wish. Just don't get in my way, and don't distract me."

With that, he turned on his heel and stalked off into the trees. He had no light to guide him except for the sporadic flashes of lightning that lit up the sky every few moments or so, but he couldn't risk using magic to provide light. He was weak, tired and underfed, and in no condition to take on anyone - or anything - right now.

And he'd never admit it, but hearing Thor stomping through the underbrush behind him helped set his mind at ease; he'd always felt safer when the oaf was near.

"Loki, what are we chasing?" Thor called, yelling to be heard over the sound of the thunderclap that shook the sky.

"Something magical," Loki answered. He stopped for a moment and searched with his mind for whatever he had sensed earlier. Adjusting his direction, he walked on. "Whatever it is, it isn't supposed to be here."

After about ten minutes of walking, the two came to a small clearing. Loki pushed through a bush irritably and then froze. His eyes widened and he sucked in a sharp breath when he took in the sight before him.

A Frost Giant loomed over him, lips drawn up in a snarl and battle axe gripped tight in its fist. Behind him, Thor let out a strangled growl and Loki heard Mjolnir slip into his fist. They stood there for a good three second before Loki's mind caught up with him.

Groaning at his own stupidity, he relaxed his shoulders and turned to Thor.

"It's not real," he informed the thunderer. Thor gave him a questioning look. "It's an illusion. A very poor illusion,"

As they watched, the Frost Giant flickered a bit and turned slightly transparent. With a wave of his hand, Loki destroyed it, watching it flicker into nothingness with a smirk on his face. Said smirk disappeared quickly, though, when he felt suddenly lightheaded and barely managed to stop himself from swaying.

Right, his magic was mostly drained. Wonderful.

"What does this mean?" Thor asked. Loki blinked furiously until his vision came back into focus and then gave Thor a scornful glance.

"It means," he said, "that there's a magic user in these woods. Whoever it is, though, they are terrible at making illusions."

"They are weak, then?"

"Hardly." Loki started walking again, trusting his senses to guide him to the source of the magic. "They are weak at making illusions, but that does not mean that they do not excel in other areas of magic."

Thor followed him through the trees, oddly silent. It was strange, but Loki wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. They walked on for a while, eventually coming to a stop in front of a large pine tree.

"Why have we stopped?" Thor asked. Loki leaned back against the tree, trying to make it look like he was simply relaxing and not using it to keep his balance.

"Quiet, you moron," he snapped. "I've lost the trail. Now leave me alone and let me find it again."

Thor held up his hands in a surrendering gesture and leaned against another tree across from Loki's. The trickster huffed an irritated sigh and closed his eyes. Once more he spread out his awareness and searched for the magic that had called to him before.

After a few futile minutes of searching, he finally felt something. It was much, much weaker than the magic he had felt earlier, but it was there nonetheless. Casting a quick glance at the motionless form of Thor, he slipped away silently, deciding that he could handle checking out whatever weak illusion had been created now.

It was odd, though. Every time Loki felt like he was getting closer to the source of the magic, it would appear a few yards in front of him, almost as if it was… leading him someplace. Loki stopped dead, realization flashing in his green eyes.

He glanced behind him, towards where he had left his brother. Briefly he debated going back to the safety and security Thor had always offered him, but then he remembered that, drained and weak as he currently was, he was still Loki, God of Lies and Chaos, and he had a certain reputation to uphold.

Besides, he was sure he had enough magic to defend himself, if the need arose.

With that in mind, he set off again, following the trail almost eagerly, reminding himself of a dog on the trail of a rabbit. Five measly minutes went by before lightning tore through the sky angrily and thunder shook the ground. Loki smiled. Honestly, he was surprised it had taken Thor that long to notice he was gone.

Not that Thor was unintelligent, much as Loki said otherwise, but the thunderer had the attention span of a goldfish when he wanted to and usually couldn't resist pestering Loki with questions about every little thing he was doing.

"Hmm," Loki mused aloud. "That may have more to do with me being a suspicious, world-threatening madman than his natural curiosity." He chuckled softly to himself, pausing to push his now short hair out of his face. He looked around, his mouth twisting when he sensed the faint trace of magic ahead of him travelling even farther away.

Muttering to himself about stupid, troublesome wizards, Loki started walking again. Lightning lanced across the sky, followed closely by thunder, and Loki wondered miserably when the storm would be over.

"Moronic magic user, making me hate thunderstorms," Loki murmured to himself crossly. He normally loved storms, or at least, he used to, but even Frost Giants could only take so much bone-chilling wetness, and Loki wasn't as durable as others of his kind.

He pushed aside a low-hanging branch and let out a yelp when the ground beneath him suddenly gave way. Thanks to his reflexes - preferring daggers to swords did have its advantages - he managed to catch himself on the edge of the hole and pull himself up.

He was instantly alert. A dagger manifested itself in his hand without him consciously deciding to do so and he cursed violently as he felt even more strain settle on him. When nothing immediately jumped out to attack him, Loki relaxed a fraction. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder at the hole he nearly fallen into.

There was nothing there. The ground was more or less smooth, covered in fallen pine needles and mud like the rest of the ground. A sudden thought struck him and he reached down, grabbing a pinecone and tossing it at the spot where he had fallen. As he suspected, it passed through the illusion and disappeared.

"Amateur tricks," Loki muttered as the image flickered.

"Well, that's not very nice," a voice behind him said, and Loki instinctively spun around and crouched low, launching his dagger. The man, tall and burly with a face covered in a thick grey beard, dodged the blade easily, moving with an agility belied by his size and obvious age. "I know I'm not the best at illusions, but that's hardly reason enough to call me an amateur. I _did_ study with the Light Elves, you know."

Loki's eyebrows rose and he clamped down the apprehension beginning to creep into his mind. True, the sorcerer had to be powerful in order to have studied with Elves, but Loki himself was not weak when it came to his magic abilities. Or at least, certain magical abilities.

Still, he _did_ have a reputation to uphold, so he just straightened up and let a dagger dangle loosely from each hand, making sure that his eyes held no trace of the trepidation he felt.

"Why have you led me here?" he asked, blinking rapidly to keep his vision clear of rainwater.

The older sorcerer rolled his eyes, something that Loki found horribly Midgardian but strangely effective at conveying annoyance, and smirked. Instead of answering, he thrust his hand out and murmured a spell.

Before Loki could react, the area around him erupted into flames. Jumping to the side to avoid getting burned, he threw both of his daggers. He didn't wait to see if his projectiles hit their mark, instead choosing to slip into the underbrush and slowly creep away.

He snarled to himself when he stepped on a branch and the sorcerer's head whipped around to stare straight at him. Growling in frustration, Loki summoned a double of himself and watched with satisfaction as it launched itself at his enemy.

It was extremely realistic, if he did say so himself, but it cost him a lot of energy to keep corporeal. Wasting no time, he turned tail and ran through the forest. It was a terribly cowardly thing for him to do, he knew that, but he wasn't Thor; his self-preservation instinct was greater than his need for honor and battle and valor.

Speaking of the thunderer, a loud, angry and very familiar yell had him turning his head sharply to the left, listening intently for any other sign of his brother.

"Loki!"

"Yo, Reindeer Games!"

Loki skidded to a stop and sneered. Of course Thor would go to the Avengers for help with finding him. Loki scoffed and started walking in the opposite direction. He was most definitely not going to give those Midgardian freakshow rejects the satisfaction of seeing him like this, hunted and weak.

 _Then again,_ he thought as he suddenly doubled over, fighting the pain in his abdomen that threatened to consume him, _I may be in over my head._

He could feel the exact moment his double was destroyed. It sent a tiny wave of relief through him when his magic was no longer being pulled at by the copy. Loki didn't allow himself much time to rest, though. No, he had no time for such things.

There was an angry sorcerer on the loose trying to kill him with a talent for fire-based magic, something Loki had never even attempted to master. His Jotunn lineage certainly wasn't gaining him any advantages in this situation, yet he still refused to go crawling to the Avengers.

Instead, he pressed himself to the trunk of a tree and thought.

He hadn't gotten very far in his little mad dash for freedom. The sorcerer would easily catch up, and soon. He could expect no help from Thor or the Avengers; they were going in entirely the wrong direction and Loki would not be reduced to crying out for help like a helpless child.

The trickster peered around the tree cautiously. When he noticed nothing out of the ordinary, he stepped fully out into the open and prepared himself. All he had was his daggers, but even those wouldn't last long considering he was relying on magic to produce them.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

The sorcerer was closing in on him. His voice was too close for comfort. Loki always did strike better from a distance, but maybe this time a close proximity would be more to his advantage than a good throwing distance would be. After all, he wouldn't be able to use his fire magic without burning himself if Loki was close enough.

With a renewed sense of conviction, Loki created two new daggers and held them tight in his fists. He waited, making sure to stand tall and proud, for the sorcerer to step into the clearing. He didn't have to wait long.

"Ah, there you are!" the sorcerer said, stepping out of the cover the trees provided. "I was beginning to worry."

"Good," Loki said. "You should be."

"Is that so?" the sorcerer asked, chuckling.

"Indeed. You aren't the only one who studied with the Elves."

The older man's grin twisted into a snarl. "I'm aware, _Loki_."

Loki blinked in surprise. "Have we met before?" he asked pleasantly. The sorcerer snorted.

"Of course you wouldn't remember," he said with a sneer. "Why would I expect the great _Loki_ to have any recollection of a simple old wizard like myself?"

Loki tried not to glare in response to the way his name was being said, as if it were a foul curse word.

"You're right," Loki said. "I don't remember you, so if you don't mind, refresh my memory."

The sorcerer grinned evilly. "Perhaps this will help."

He flung both arms out to his sides, palms forward, and instantly a ring of fire surrounded Loki. It grew steadily smaller and smaller and Loki knew that if he couldn't escape it would consume him.

Gritting his teeth, he tensed, waiting for the right moment. Just before the inner edges of the circle made contact with him, he launched himself out of the ring, gasping sharply as the very tips of the flames scorched his chest. He allowed himself a brief glance downward to assess the damage.

The hoodie he was wearing was scorched in some places, but otherwise he was unharmed. The wizard was right, though; that little attack had indeed helped jog Loki's memory.

"Einar," he said, eyes widening as he recalled the sorcerer who had trained alongside him while he was under the tutelage of the Light Elves. Loki had paid Einar no attention while they were both training, not until Loki passed him in his studies, despite being almost a thousand years younger. The ring of fire was one of Einar's favorite tricks, one he had used on Loki many times during their practice fights.

Now, the wizard smiled.

"Correct," he said. "Now you will be able to tell Lady Hel who it was that killed you when you knock upon her gates."

Loki snorted, holding back the grimace of pain that one action caused. "I had no quarrel with you, Einar, but now that you have so foolishly attacked me I'm afraid I have no choice but to end you. As the Midgardians say, nothing personal."

Einar replied with a spell. The words were muttered too fast for Loki to catch them, though he was fast enough to dodge the tendril of energy that flew out of Einar's palm. He growled low in his throat when he slipped a little in the mud, and decided to go on the offense; after all, it is the best defense.

Using a little more of his magic reserves, he created two new blades, slightly longer than the throwing knives he usually sported. With a war cry worthy of Odin himself, Loki flung himself at Einar and slashed downwards with both blades as he landed right where his enemy had been a few seconds before. He swung one blade at his foe, spinning gracefully and following immediately with the other one.

Using an agility belied by his old appearance, Einar dodged every thrust and swipe Loki attacked him with. After a few moments, they broke apart, both of them panting slightly. Loki noted with satisfaction the trickle of blood dripping from a gash on Einar's arm from when he had been too slow to dodge.

"Very good, Loki," Einar said. "It seems you have gotten even better since we went our separate ways. But two daggers aren't going to save you, not from me."

He opened one hand and when he clenched it into a fist again, a huge plume of flame shot out of it, taking the shape of a broadsword. Loki exhaled sharply and adjusted his stance. He could fight against a broadsword with just his daggers, he'd done it countless times before. The only differences were he had only ever gone up against Thor with a practice sword, and his brother had certainly never meant him true harm.

He had no time to dwell on it, though, as Einar lunged at him, pointing the sword directly at Loki's chest. With practiced ease, Loki brought up both daggers, trapping the flat of the sword between them. He stepped closer to Einar and spun so that his back was to his chest. He elbowed him hard in the gut and was rewarded with a very satisfying grunt.

Loki miscalculated how long it would take Einar to recover. He was unprepared for the hand that grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and threw him bodily to the ground. Blinking hard to clear his vision of the mud that splashed onto his face upon his landing, Loki waited. When he felt the slight shifting of air that meant Einar was close, he released as much power as he dared into the air in a violent outburst, sending the older sorcerer flying through the air and into the trunk of a tree with a loud _crack!_

Loki was on his feet instantly, fingers closing around the hilt of one dagger as he pushed himself off the ground. His eyes raked over the ground, searching for the other dagger, and as such he wasn't aware of Einar getting to his feet until he heard a furious scream split the air.

His head jerked up sharply and he stumbled back in shock before he could school himself. A strong invisible force slammed into his chest, knocking all of the breath out of him and sending him sprawling onto his back in the mud. He tried to get up but the force of Einar's magic settled on his chest and kept him pinned, much like Mjolnir had on the Bifrost a few years ago.

All he could do was glare as Einar sauntered closer, eyes glittering devilishly above the tangle of his beard. The old sorcerer stopped by Loki's head and grinned down at him. One of his hands extended and he pointed a careless finger at the trickster.

"I've created a special spell just for you," he said, sneering. "Ever since you surpassed me in the training program and got me thrown out I've been dreaming of this moment, preparing for exactly what I would do when I finally caught up to you. I never doubted I would, you know. You may be the God of Lies, but you are ridiculously easy to find if one uses the right methods, which I-"

"Spare me your ridiculous monologue," Loki snapped, squirming around in a fruitless attempt to free himself of Einar's hold. "I care not what moronic spell you've created, but I'd gladly have you try it if it meant my ears would finally be free from the torturous sound of your voice."

Einar sighed exasperatedly. "Honestly, today's youth are so very impatient. But I shall do as you wish, Silver Prince. I do hope you enjoy this, I created it with you in mind."

The finger travelled until it was pointing at Loki's chest, where it hovered ominously. Loki paused in his struggles to regard it with morbid curiosity. As terrified as he was right now, a small part of him really wanted to know what Einar's spell did. At least, it did until Einar started to chant.

Loki, recognizing the beginnings of a Dark spell, began his struggles anew, even lashing out with his magic in an attempt to free himself. The overexertion of his power left him with fuzzy vision and nausea, yet he couldn't even manage to produce a small flare of energy. The burst he had used earlier had left him more drained than he thought.

Einar shouted the last few words of his spell and Loki tensed and closed his eyes. Thanks to the All-Speak, he had understood everything Einar had said, and it wasn't pretty. Sure enough, the bright white flash was followed by a pain so unbearable that even Loki, who had an amazingly high pain tolerance, couldn't help but scream.

The force holding him down disappeared but he didn't notice, too busy trying to stop the pain to care. He thrashed around in the mud, mouth opened wide and eyes shut tight. He screamed so loud and so long that his throat started shredding itself and the coppery tang of blood washed over his tongue.

He'd known that Einar's spell, designed to drain the magic out of him slowly, would hurt. A lot. It was a lot worse than he had expected, though, seeing as he hadn't learned how to do magic like Einar had, simply how to control it. Magic was a part of him, literally in every fiber of his being, and having it torn from him as violently as Einar was currently was killing him, a fact he would be aware of if he could think around the mind-numbing agony ripping through him.

Luckily, he could see the black spots dancing at the edge of his vision again, a sure sign that he was about to pass out. Unluckily, the spell stopped right before he was fully unconscious, leaving him half-awake and in unimaginable pain.

He couldn't move, couldn't do anything except lie there in the mud with his eyes closed, trying to remember how to breathe. Thankfully, the storm was coming to an end, and only light rainfall fell on him. He could faintly hear someone shouting, multiple someones, actually, but he wasn't sure if it was real or only in his head. That is, he wasn't sure until a large, familiarly blonde head appeared above his, blocking out the rain.

"Thor," Loki murmured, sure that what he was seeing was a hallucination. His voice was scratchy and rough from all of his screaming and Thor's eyebrows drew together in a concerned frown. He looked up at something beyond Loki's vision and his mouth moved, but the trickster couldn't really hear anything over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears.

His eyes slipped shut and the voice came again, louder. He wanted to respond, to say something, but he was just so _tired._ Instead, he decided to give in to the alluring pull of unconsciousness. The last thing he felt before the darkness fully enveloped his senses was a large pair of hands lifting him up.

… oO()Oo …

Hours later, or minutes, he couldn't tell, he finally emerged from the blackness and mustered enough energy to open his eyes. At first, seeing nothing but darkness, he panicked a little, fearing that something had happened to his eyesight. He blinked and everything came into focus.

He was lying on his back with something soft positioned under his head, probably in a cave judging by the rough rock walls and the way his every breath echoed. He tried moving his head, but a sharp stab of pain shot through his head and he couldn't help but let out a groan.

Quick, light footsteps alerted him to another presence and he tensed when a shadow fell over his face. A hand reached out and settled gently on his shoulder.

"Easy," a familiar voice said. "You shouldn't move."

"Rom'noff?" Loki murmured. The hand squeezed his shoulder gently in answer. "Wh't 'appened?"

Natasha settled herself down next to Loki and wrapped one arm around her drawn-up legs.

"You and Thor were gone so long that we got worried," she started, "so we went out after you. We found Thor pretty soon. He was headed towards us and seemed pretty pissed." She shot Loki a meaningful look. "He told us that you had sensed something out in the trees and had gone after it on your own. It didn't take us long to find you. Your screams aren't exactly quiet."

"Well, pardon me for never learning to quiet my sounds of pain," Loki said sarcastically, pleased when his voice didn't come out as scratchy as it had been before. "How long have I been out? And where are the others?" _And Thor?_

"Not long," Natasha answered. "Only about an hour. The rest of the team is looking for whoever attacked you."

Loki frowned. "You mean you didn't see who it was?"

The Widow raised an eyebrow. "Should we have?"

He didn't answer, too caught up in his thoughts. Einar was still out there, even more dangerous than before now that he had stolen most of Loki's magic. He was incredibly powerful before, but add to that the fact that Thor - and the others - had no magical defenses, they were almost sure to perish.

He would never admit this to anyone, but he maybe, kind of, might still care about Thor, and the thought of anything happening to him - or his stupid friends, he guessed he kind of cared about them, too - sent a stab of anxiety through him that was almost painful. Oh wait, that was just actual physical pain.

Ignoring the uncomfortable (read: nearly agonizing) feeling churning in his gut, he pulled himself into a sitting position and leaned against the wall. He let out a sigh and closed his eyes, waiting for Thor to get back.

"Loki," the Widow's voice cut through his thoughts and he blearily cracked open one eye. "What happened?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to be a bit more specific than that."

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?" Loki asked challengingly. At Natasha's withering glare, he relented. "His name is Einar. He and I trained together with the Elves a few hundred years ago. He… holds a grudge against me."

"A grudge?" Natasha eyed his mud-splattered clothes and obvious discomfort with a single eyebrow raised. "This seems like a lot for just a grudge. You nearly died."

"Is that concern in your tone, Agent?" Loki asked teasingly.

"Of course not. I'm simply stating facts."

Loki smirked and leaned his head back against the wall. His gaze flicked to the mouth of the cave and then widened when he sensed something coming. Something magical. A moment later he relaxed. He'd recognize that signature anywhere. Thor's stupid hammer never was very good at masking the magic it carried inside itself.

Sure enough, not thirty seconds later the bushes directly across from the cave entrance rustled. Natasha was on her feet instantly, gun drawn and aimed out into the trees. The first person to come through was Clint, probably because if it was anyone else Natasha would've shot first and asked questions later.

Her gun lowered as one by one the rest of the Avengers filed into the cave. Thor's eyes instantly landed on his brother and Loki had only enough time to widen his eyes in alarm before he was being crushed by one of Thor's hugs.

"Loki!" the thunderer cried happily. "I am glad to see you awake! You worried me greatly when you wandered off."

"Thor," Loki gasped, "let… go."

Thor pulled back with obvious reluctance and Loki was finally able to breathe. After coughing a few times to clear his already battered lungs, he gave Thor a scrutinizing look. His eyes flicked over the rest of the Avengers, skipping Tony since he had on his armor.

"You did not find him." It wasn't a question. They were all alive and unhurt, meaning that their mission was unsuccessful.

"No," Thor said angrily. "But I will not stop looking until I do, and when I finally get my hands on him Mjolnir will taste the blood it so craves!"

"Of course, Thor," Loki said placatingly, only half paying attention to what his brother was saying. Most of his attention was on the forest outside, still dripping from the storm earlier. "Do not worry. Einar will eventually find me, and then you may satisfy your barbaric bloodlust."

"You seem pretty sure that this Einar dude actually will find you," Clint said, giving Loki a suspicious look.

"That's because I am sure," the trickster replied. "It is not a question of if, but when."

"How can you be so certain?" Bruce asked.

Loki chose not to answer, instead closing his eyes and trusting Thor's overprotective tendencies to kick in. He wasn't disappointed.

"Enough questions," Thor said, his voice back to its normal level. "He is obviously tired and requires rest."

Loki sighed tiredly to confirm Thor's story and reached inside himself for his magic. He had to restrain himself from cringing at what he found. His insides were a mess. Since his magic was his life energy, Einar draining it caused a lot of internal damage.

Not all of it was gone, however, and the remaining magic was working hard to keep him alive long enough for his body to replenish it. He's survived worse, but this recovery was going to be a long and painful one.

"Loki," a soft voice at his ear called, and Loki turned to see Thor sitting next to him. "Tell me the truth. Are you alright?"

Loki briefly debated spinning some elaborate lie, but then he made the mistake of glancing into Thor's earnest and hopeful blue eyes and his resolve crumbled.

"I will be," he said, making sure that none but his brother could hear him. "But the experience will not be pleasant."

Thor frowned, but a sudden noise from outside had his head turning sharply.

"I know you're in there, little prince," Einar called. "We were interrupted before, but now we can finish what we started. Come out now and I'll make your end swift."

Liar. But then, Loki would be such a hypocrite if he complained about Einar's lies.

All heads swivelled to look at Loki, but the trickster had eyes only for Thor. His brother had that familiar look on his face, the look he always wore right before he went and did some monumentally stupid thing.

"Don't," Loki said warningly. "Thor, seriously, don't. You can't beat him, not right now."

Thor, as always, ignored him and stalked out of the cave, practically radiating fury.

Loki allowed himself a muttered "Damn" and a sigh before he started to painfully pull himself up. By the time he hobbled over to the mouth of the cave, the other Avengers, minus Bruce, had rushed out and joined Thor. It wasn't going well.

Einar, equipped with the added bonus of Loki's magic as well as his own, was ruthless, throwing spell after spell at the Midgardians and Thor. A few trees were already on fire and most of the assassins' weapons were broken.

"How is he that powerful?" Bruce asked, voice tinged with awe, as Einar caught Steve's shield mid-throw and launched it back so hard that the Captain had to jump to dodge it or risk being decapitated.

Loki didn't answer Bruce's question, instead focusing on Thor. Mjolnir, being magical in nature, offered at least some protection from the lesser spells Einar cast, but no matter how hard Thor swung it, he never even got close to touching him.

Frustrated, Thor raised his hammer and black clouds instantly gathered above him. Lightning struck Mjolnir, only to jump to Einar when Thor pointed it. Instead of being burnt to a crisp as everyone but Loki expected, Einar caught the lightning in his hand and grinned at Loki.

He threw the ball of energy, faster than any of them could follow, right at the trickster. Pain almost as great as that from the magic-draining spell Einar had used on him before shot through him. He let out a scream and dropped to his knees, fighting for consciousness.

He won.

He groaned as the pain subsided. Two hands grabbed his arm and hauled him further into the cave just as a large (read: fucking _huge_ ) fireball landed right where they had been standing. His head lolled to the side as he was propped up against the wall.

Bruce, when Loki opened his eyes, had his attention focused on the fight still raging outside, but he turned his attention to Loki when the trickster coughed weakly.

"How do we beat him?" Bruce asked tersely, pupils flashing green.

"You can't," Loki rasped. "He is powerful on his own, but he absorbed most of my magic and it made him even more so."

Bruce frowned. "There has to be something! I mean, we can't even get close to the guy."

Loki studied his boots contemplatively, deep in thought. A thought occurred to him and he looked up.

"Einar has one weakness," he said. "He had to learn magic, meaning if we can take the knowledge away…"

"He'd be powerless," Bruce finished, realization obvious in his widened eyes. "Can we even do that, though? Make him forget how to do magic?"

"I know a spell that can take away knowledge. It is not difficult, anyone can do it. Even you."

"Great. What do I need to do?"

Loki allowed a dagger to materialize in his hand and waited until the pain subsided before handing it to Bruce. The doctor regarded him carefully.

"What was that?" he asked, and Loki realized that he hadn't hidden his reaction as well as he had hoped.

"We have no time for such trivial matters as your own insatiable curiosity," he snapped. A cry of "Look out!" from Steve, followed by a rather loud crash, drove his point home and Bruce nodded.

"What do I have to do?"

"It is a blood sacrifice," Loki explained. "The incantation is simple enough, but it is the actual drawing of the blood that requires the most effort."

"I can't speak anything other than English," Bruce said. Loki resisted the urge to roll his eyes, knowing that it would only make his headache worse.

"I will be speaking the incantation," he said. "You will simply need to draw the sigil."

Loki pulled up one sleeve and presented his arm to Bruce. Confusion laced the doctor's face for a moment until realization set in and he stared down at the knife in in his hands with a slightly green face that had nothing to do with the Hulk he was keeping at bay.

"Banner," Loki said sharply, and waited until Bruce was actually looking at him to continue. "Your teammates will die unless we can even the playing field. I need you to get over your squeamishness and prepare yourself. Can you do that?"

Bruce blinked and his eyes hardened determinedly. He nodded. Loki let out a breath he didn't even realized he was holding. Using one finger, he scratched a small, circular symbol into the dirt covering the stone floor of the cave.

"After I enchant the knife, I need you to carve this as accurately as you can," Loki told him. Bruce nodded again and poised the knife above the trickster's forearm. Loki watched Bruce study the sigil for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and speaking the incantation.

It honestly went smoother than he had expected. The All-Speak allowed him to recite the words perfectly, he input Einar's name in all the right places, and he managed it all without passing out. It still hurt, though not as much as he had thought, and he was panting lightly by the time he had finished.

"Loki?" Bruce looked at him worriedly and Loki bit back a groan. He really should not have used up any more magic, but, as they say, desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Hurry up and draw the damn sigil," he said harshly. The doctor bit his lip but obeyed. The knife hesitated only a moment before pressing down and sliding along his skin. Loki closed his eyes and tried to focus on anything other than the cold silver carving up the flesh of his arm. It was over in less than a minute, but Loki knew that the incantation and the sigil were the easy parts.

Sure enough, as soon as Bruce finished the sigil and withdrew the blade from his skin, Loki was overcome with a pain so intense that he wasn't sure Einar hadn't come back and recast the spell that drained magic. His mouth opened in a silent scream and he clutched at his middle as tightly as he could, watching through eyes blurred by pain as the blood rushing down his arm started glowing faintly.

When enough of the substance had gathered in a small puddle on the ground, the wound on his arm closed abruptly. Loki fell forward just in time to avoid throwing up all over himself. Bruce paid him no mind, too busy watching as the blood started swirling around on the ground while Loki retched pitifully, ejecting everything from his stomach.

When the scant amount of food had left him, stomach acid burned its way up his throat and forced tears into his eyes. He coughed violently a few times and started to sit back. A small gasp from Bruce was the only warning he had before what sounded like a miniature explosion took place in the cave and a large shockwave burst outward from the enchanted blood.

Having not been directed at either of them, Bruce and Loki were unharmed, though the trickster was knocked flat onto his back from the force of the magic. Bruce ran to the mouth of the cave and peered out.

"I think it's actually working!" he said, eyes widening. "Something's happening to him." Loki groaned softly and turned over onto his side instead of answering. Thankfully, the shockwave of magic had obliterated many things when it had escaped, Loki's vomit included, so the god wasn't forced to lie in a puddle of his own insides as he tried to recover from the pain.

He didn't know how long he laid there, just focusing on breathing enough to keep himself alive, before a deep voice shouted "Loki!" and two large hands grabbed him none too gently by the shoulders.

He moaned at the rough treatment and cracked open his eyes, intent on giving his manhandler a piece of his mind, but the words died on his tongue when his head started pounding. He coughed and blood dotted his lips. The blue eyes he had been staring into - Thor's, he realized belatedly - tightened in concern.

He was propped up against the cold stone wall and held in place by one meaty hand. He took advantage of Thor's distraction to let his tired eyes roam over the other occupants of the cave. The other Avengers, covered in mud and obviously weary, lounged around the cave in varying stages of relaxation.

Einar was lying unconscious near the back of the cave, arms handcuffed behind his back - Where did they even get handcuffs? He was pretty sure it was Natasha, that woman was always pulling freaky shit out of thin air - and face a mess of blue and purple bruises. Both assassins were slumped against the wall, one on either side of him, but Loki knew for a fact that they were more than ready to jump into attack mode at the slightest sign of alertness from the mage.

"Loki," Thor called, and the trickster flicked his eyes to his face. Thor held up a silver flask and pushed it against Loki's lips. "Drink." Irked at being treated like a child, Loki kept his lips firmly shut and tried to turn his head away. The movement caused the liquid in the flask to slosh against his lips, and before he could stop it, his tongue darted out and licked the drops away.

He hadn't realized how thirsty he was until those few drops of water wetted his tongue. In fact, if he wasn't so thirty and delirious, he would have been pretty embarrassed at the way he grabbed desperately at Thor's hand and gulped every last drop from the flask. Thor smiled at him when he finished and Loki found he was too tired to glare.

Closing his eyes, the younger god leaned back and let his eyes slip shut. He had no intention of falling asleep, despite all he had just been through and how long he had been without it. There was no way that he could sleep with a threat as big as Einar so close, yet he still found himself slipping into the blessed unfeelingness of sleep only a few seconds after closing his eyes.

… oO()Oo …

White-hot pain in his gut woke him some time later, forcing his eyes to shut tighter and his body to curl into itself protectively. Thor, who he was embarrassed to find he had been leaning on, woke instantly. His eyes darkened with concern and he placed one hand on Loki's back, rubbing soothing circles and using the other one to stroke his hair.

After a few moments, the pain subsided and Loki was able to move again.

"Stop petting me," he hissed. Thor's hand stilled, though he didn't remove them from Loki's person. Sighing exasperatedly, Loki pulled himself into a sitting position.

"Loki, what is happening to you?" Thor asked, voice soft. Instead of answering, Loki let his narrowed eyes fall on Einar, still in the exact same position as the last time Loki had seen him.

"Why are we still here?" he asked instead of answering. "Surely your Avengers would want to get Einar off their world as soon as possible."

Thor frowned at the blatant avoidance of his question, but answered anyway. "The Man of Iron has contacted the Furious Director. Transportation should be here in a few hours."

Loki hummed and leaned back against the wall. He could practically feel the irritation and worry radiating off of Thor and knew it would only be a matter of time before he was interrogated.

"Loki, enough." Ah, yes, there it was. "How can you expect me to help you if you don't tell me what's wrong?"

"I _don't_ expect you to help me," Loki said. "And I wouldn't, even if there was something you could do."

In the corner of his vision, something moved, but when he turned his head it was just Bruce fidgeting from where he was slumped against the cave wall, purposefully not looking at Thor and Loki.

"Loki, please," Thor said. Loki closed his eyes and kept his head turned away from his brother. "You can't be so cruel as to leave me like this, not knowing whether or not you are injured."

Loki peered at him from under his lashes and then cursed. He had foolishly let himself get trapped by Thor's big, blue puppy eyes. He'd never been able to resist them.

"I'm not hurt, Thor," he sighed. "I'll be fine in a few days." _Hopefully._

"How do you know?" Thor demanded.

Lok closed his eyes again, fighting the urge to rub his temples, where another headache was blossoming.

"Leave it alone, Thor," he said.

"I will not," Thor replied hotly. "Something is wrong-"

"Thor."

"-and I intend to figure out what it is."

" _Thor._ "

"You almost died, Loki. I refuse to make light of this. _Tell me what's wrong._ "

"Dammit, Thor!" Loki snapped, pushing away from his brother and crossing his arms. "I'm _fine._ My magic was drained fixing the stupid city and it nearly killed me, but it isn't permanent, and yes, it's painful, no, there's nothing you can do, alright? Now, leave me the hell alone before I kill myself casting a spell to make you shut up!"

Panting slightly after his rant, Loki looked around and noticed everyone in the cave, excluding Einar, staring at him. He felt heat creep up his face but refused to look away, staring them down until all eyes but Thor's were looking at something that wasn't him.

"Your magic is gone?" Thor asked softly. Loki groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Yes," he sighed. "But it'll come back, so don't worry your blonde little head about me not fixing your city."

Thor chuckled. "It may be hard for you to believe, but it isn't the city I'm worried about." Loki gave him a withering look and the thunderer simply laughed again, much to his annoyance. A serious look settled on his face after a moment. "Loki, you said that this happened because you have been aiding in the reconstruction of New York?"

"Do we have any food?" Loki asked, sounding a little desperate even to his own ears. Thor glared at him but pulled something the Midgardians called a protein bar from the pack at his feet. He didn't realize how hungry he was until he took a bite, and he had to stop himself from scarfing the whole thing down at once.

"Answer the question, Loki," Thor said.

"You never actually asked me a question, merely made a statement with a questioning tone. I can't answer something that was never-"

"Loki." The trickster's mouth shut instantly, as it always did when Thor used that tone. He lowered his eyes and fiddled with the wrapper on the protein bar in his hand.

"Yes, I overused my magic rebuilding the city," he said softly. "As much as it seems otherwise, magic is not easy and is very tiring. I… haven't been resting as much as I probably should have as of late, and because magic is a part of me, the more I used it without letting it replenish, the worse my health became."

"Loki, you should know better," Thor chided. "You're usually so good about taking care of yourself."

Loki stared at him incredulously. "Are you scolding me? Seriously?" He heard a quiet snicker from the other side of the cave and narrowed his eyes in the direction it had come from. Turning back to Thor, he took a vicious bite of the protein bar and pouted as he chewed. Not that he'd admit it, of course. He was a prince, after all, and princes don't pout.

A throat clearing caught his attention and he raised an eyebrow at Steve. The Captain was looking sheepishly at Loki.

"Um, for the record, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry," he said. Loki raised an eyebrow.

"For?" he said after he swallowed.

Steve gestured towards him and Thor. "For doing this to you. For not noticing what we were doing."

"Alright," he said, slightly confused. "Um, I accept your apology."

Steve nodded once, looking just as awkward as they all probably felt, and settled himself down on top of his sleeping bag.

After finishing two more protein bars and draining a water bottle, Loki's exhaustion caught up with him and he felt his eyes close halfway without his consent.

"When will our transport arrive?" he asked.

"They should be here by sunrise," Natasha said. She looked around at the others, strewn about the cave in varying degrees of consciousness. Thor, sitting next to Loki with his hand on Mjolnir's handle, didn't look like he would be closing his eyes anytime soon, and neither did Natasha. "You should get some sleep, Loki. From the way you were talking earlier it seems you haven't gotten any for longer than is wise."

"Aye, brother," Thor said cheerily. "There are still a few hours to go until we must leave. Take this time to rest. I'm sure it will help what ails you."

Loki rolled his eyes, but complied and stretched himself out in the black sleeping bag he had brought with him. His eyes slipped shut, but he hadn't even lay still for five seconds before pain ripped through him once more.

He couldn't stifle his gasp, nor could he uncurl from the ball he had twined himself into. He heard Thor call his name, but it was faint and echoey, and he couldn't have responded even if he wanted to. Trying not to move, Loki clutched at his middle and waited for the pain to subside.

It seemed to take forever, but eventually he was able to breathe again. He sucked air greedily into his lungs, coughing and then tensing at the pain that one action caused. When his heart rate was finally back to a somewhat normal pace, he opened his eyes and let out an involuntary groan.

"Loki," Thor called urgently, sounding as if he had already done so many times before, which he probably had.

"What?" Loki snapped, head and gut both pounding in time with his heartbeat. _Strange._

"Are you alright?" Thor asked anxiously.

"Obviously not." Loki paused and burrowed deeper into his bag. "I told you that the recovery wouldn't be pleasant, did I not?"

"Yes, but whatever that was seemed like it was doing more damage than fixing what was there previously."

Loki cracked open one eye. "Thor, what do you know of how magic works?"

"Uh…" A thoughtful look passed over his face, quickly followed by a blank one.

"Exactly, nothing."

"I would if you would explain it to me," he said, and Loki sighed. "Please? I want to understand what you're going through."

Loki managed to hold out a little longer this time, but once again he found himself ensnared by Thor's pleading eyes. Damn him and his likeness to labradors.

"Oh, very well," he said. He saw Natasha shift her position slightly away from them, but knew that she was interested. He smirked. "Now, there are two main types of magic users. Those who learn magic, like Einar, and those who are born with magic, like me. Magic is not just a tool for me to use to accomplish my goals, it is a part of who I am. It's my life energy, a part of my soul.

"I admit that most of this is of my own doing, as I had not been taking proper care of myself before, like you said. I'd been using my magic, but not giving myself an opportunity to replenish it. And then Einar, the bastard, drained almost all of what I had left."

"That doesn't explain the headaches, or the nausea. What?" he added when Loki shot him a confused look. "I know you, Loki. I recognized the signs."

Loki ignored the warm feeling spreading in his chest. "My body almost shut down completely. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if a few organs are still not working properly. Recovery from that isn't going to be all starshine and Bifrost dust."

Thor frowned thoughtfully, an expression Loki hadn't often seen on his brother. It didn't suit him. Settling back into his sleeping bag, Loki checked on the progress his magic was making. The protein bars and water had helped, it seemed. His magic reserves were at least a little bigger than they had been before, and contrary to what he had said before, all of his internal organs were in working condition. Mostly.

Pleased, he let his eyes slip shut and didn't wake until morning.

… oO()Oo …

"Oh, my God, that is disgusting! Who puts ranch on a hotdog?"

Avengers, Loki decided, were the rudest people on the planet. Not only had they not woken him for breakfast, they weren't even being quiet enough for him to sleep. How impolite.

Blinking his eyes to clear them, he stretched and yawned, trying to get his brain more than half awake. After a few moments, he was able to remove himself from the warmth and comfort of his sleeping bag and stand up.

Sudden lightheadedness forced him to stop and he stood swaying, holding his head in one hand and the wall with the other. The dizzy spell passed after a while, but he stayed still for a few extra moments to be sure. And Thor, the great oaf, had to choose that exact moment to come bounding into the cave.

"Loki! Wake up, brother!" he called. He stopped when he caught sight of Loki and the smile slipped off his face. "Loki, are you alright?"

Loki batted his hand away when he reached for him. "I'm fine, you nag. Why didn't you wake me? And why are we not out of this place? I thought Fury was coming at sunrise and the sun is clearly risen."

The two of them made their way out of the cave and over to the small campfire the team had made a few yards away from the cave mouth. The five of them sat around it, roasting sausages - hot dogs, apparently - on sticks. Loki smirked at the sight of Einar tied to a tree, gag and handcuffs still in place, the expression growing into a grin when the sorcerer glared.

"I didn't wake you because you need the rest," Thor told him as they settled themselves between Tony and Clint. "And I am not sure when the Furious one will be here." He shot a questioning glance at Steve, who paused with a hotdog halfway to his open mouth.

"I'll contact him," he said, "after breakfast."

Loki rolled his eyes, but accepted the meat Thor passed him. He wrinkled his nose slightly at the grease rolling off the end of it and into the bread it was encased in, not even that hungry. Since he hadn't been eating a lot in the past few weeks, really only enough to keep himself alive, his appetite was all but nonexistent. Still, he didn't want to give Thor any more reasons to coddle him, so he held his breath and took a bite.

It wasn't terrible, as far as campfire food went, so Loki ate the whole thing, eating slowly so as not to upset his already rolling stomach. Leaning back when he was finished, he closed his eyes and looked inside himself, satisfied that he was recovering normally - or as normally as he assumed he should be, seeing as this had never happened to him before; Most of his organs were more or less healed, though his stomach still looked a little charred, and his magic was pooling nicely, and that was what he cared about most.

"Is that really all you're going to eat?" a voice asked loudly, startling him out of his thoughts. Loki opened one eye irritably and glared at the offender when he determined that it was him being addressed.

"Excuse me?" he said, somewhat frostily. Bruce, however, was used to such behavior from the trickster and plowed on.

"You only had one hotdog," he explained. "I'm not a medical doctor, but considering what you said last night, you should be eating more. It helps with recovery."

A single eyebrow rose up towards Loki's hairline. "I don't see how my eating habits are any concern of yours."

The doctor frowned and took a bite of the hotdog in his hand. "I'm just saying," he said, voice slightly muffled by the food in his mouth. "You look like you haven't been eating properly for a while."

Loki shrugged, another habit he had picked up from his time with the Avengers. "You're right, I haven't been. But unless you want to see exactly what I've eaten strewn all over your shirt, you'll leave my eating habits alone."

Tony and Clint snorted in unison, casting amused glances at Loki. The trickster narrowed his eyes at them and stood up, only to squeeze his eyes shut and fall back down to his knees with a gasp as sharp pain shot through him. It didn't last more than two seconds, but that one moment was more than enough time for Thor to jump to his feet and rush over to his brother.

"I'm fine," Loki said before Thor could ask. Smacking Thor's hand away irritably, he stood unsteadily and glared down at the cold, clay-like mud stuck to the knees of his pants in disgust.

"Hello, sir," Steve said, and Loki looked up to see him with a hand on the communicator in his ear and both eyes on Loki in… was that worry?. "It's been a few hours since you said you would be here, and we were just wondering where you were. No, there's no trouble with the prisoner. Well, Loki's hurt. No, he's not dying… At least, I don't think he is." Steve's mouth pulled down into a frown. "Yes, sir."

He lowered his hand and looked apologetically at Loki. "Sorry, Fury isn't coming for at least a few more hours."

"What is he doing?" Tony asked, irritated. "He was supposed to be here ages ago!"

"He said that they're scanning the forest for any traces of others like him," Steve said, gesturing at Einar. "From what I gathered, it's going to take a while."

Loki scoffed. Of course his infamous bad luck would choose now to start acting up again. Well, whatever. He could handle a few more hours in the wilderness; it's not like medical attention would help his condition, though he was really missing his bed at Avengers Tower and the bookshelf positioned right next to it, and a cup of hot chocolate sounded divine…

Coming back to himself abruptly, Loki shook his head to clear it and started walking out into the trees.

"Where are you going?" Natasha called. "Don't wander off. At least don't go alone."

Pausing, Loki smirked at her. "I was simply going to relieve myself, but you're welcome to join me if you wish."

"Fuck off," Clint growled, scooting closer to the redhead. Loki simply quirked an eyebrow and left. He walked (read: stumbled like a baby cow learning to walk for the first time) until he was out of earshot of the Avengers, then abruptly leaned forward into a bush and threw up everything in his stomach.

He retched pathetically for a minute or two, then coughed and groaned, leaning back against a tree to support his weight. Whatever energy the protein bars and hotdog had provided him was gone; he couldn't even summon the will to look inside himself to check on whatever damage was still left.

Closing his eyes, he sunk down until he was sitting at the base of the tree and wrapped his arms around his drawn-up legs to protect himself from a sudden chill. He shivered and wished desperately for his warm fur cloak, or even his green cape; anything would be better than the simple black jeans and hoodie he was wearing.

Despite the chill and how much he was shivering, he soon found himself developing a slight sheen of sweat. Wonderful. Now he had a fever.

He tried standing, but his legs gave out before he was even up all the way and he flopped back down into the dirt with a small moan of pain. It appeared that the fever had made his headache worse.

 _Oh, fantastic,_ he thought bitterly. A brief flash of dizziness hit him, despite the fact that he hadn't even moved, and he exhaled shakily. Magic, much as he loved it, was terribly unpredictable; especially the healing aspects of it, as proven by the fact that just twenty minutes ago he had been (mostly) fine and now he was sitting not three feet from a puddle of his own vomit, unable to even open his eyes.

He really had to get up, though. It was bad enough that the Avengers had saved him from Einar twice. If they found him delirious with fever and in no condition to do anything except sit there, he'd probably have to kill himself to escape the mortification.

So, yes, getting up was a priority. And he definitely would… in a few moments. He really was so tired, and the ground was covered with soft moss and fallen leaves, and really, a few minutes of rest wouldn't hurt, would it?

… oO()Oo …

When he next opened his eyes, he was extremely confused to find that he was no longer in the forest. He was in a bedroom, it looked like. There was a large window taking up the entirety of one wall, the blinds thankfully drawn, a bookshelf filled with random items such as pencils and bottle caps instead of books, and a rather large overstuffed chair in a hideous shade of puce.

For some odd reason, especially given his history and nature, he felt completely at ease. He turned his head to look at the other side of the room and froze. He wasn't lying on a bed like he had assumed. No, his head was being propped up on something warm, slightly rough and very firm.

So, Thor, then.

And, sure enough, when he tilted his head up, he could see the thunderer gazing down at him in amusement. Loki sat up so fast he got lightheaded, and glared down at his brother. Thor had on only a blue t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats, and he was lounging against the headboard of his bed.

Slightly horrified, Loki looked down at himself. His cheeks flared red when he saw that someone had changed him out of the clothes he was wearing earlier. Now, he was clothed in his favorite sweatshirt, the soft black one that was much too big on him, and his green boxers.

Now he knew why he felt so safe when he first woke up: the room smelled like Thor.

"Is there any particular reason," he asked, "why I am half naked in your room, and not dying from fever in a forest?" He frowned. "Unless I am merely hallucinating, or having a fever dream, in which case I must ask why I am _here,_ of all places."

"Loki, you aren't dreaming," Thor interjected. "And you aren't feverish any longer, nor are you half naked."

Loki's frown deepened. "I beg to differ. But enough talk of my semi nudity. What happened?"

Thor shifted and Loki's cheeks grew darker when he realized he was nestled in between Thor's legs. Quickly, he moved away so that he was on the other side of the bed. It was Thor's turn to frown, but he answered the question.

"When you didn't come back, I feared for you," he said, and Loki rolled his eyes, but didn't interrupt. "It took us a while to find you, but by the time we found you, your fever was dangerously high. It was… nerve-wracking, those few hours before our transport came. I kept thinking you were going to die."

For a moment, Thor's eyes held such pain and sadness that Loki couldn't resist sitting beside the thunderer and letting their shoulders touch. Thor smiled at him, and continued.

"The healers of SHIELD managed to stabilize you, but you still wouldn't wake and your temperature wouldn't go down all the way. You've been unconscious ever since."

"Exactly how long is 'ever since'?" Loki enquired.

Thor shrugged. "Three days or so. I haven't really been attentive to things like that."

Looking at Thor properly for the first time, Loki noticed dark circles under his eyes, unusually ashen skin and stringy, obviously unwashed hair.

"Have you slept at all? Or taken a shower?"

Thor gave him a curious look.

"Of course not," he said. "I've been with you."

Warmth bloomed in Loki's chest, but he squashed it down. Instead, he checked his magic - it was almost fully replenished, and he was nearly completely healed - and stood up gingerly, stretching. He felt gross, which was understandable given that he had spent the last three days lying feverish in bed.

"I'm going to go shower," he announced, "and then _you're_ going to go shower, and then we're going to go get food, because I am starving, and I'm sure you are, too."

Ignoring Thor's laughter, he turned around and headed towards Thor's closet. The thunderer had barely any clothes that would fit Loki, but luckily the trickster liked lounging about huge, cozy clothes.

Selecting a new pair of boxers, black sweatpants and a green hoodie, he grabbed a towel and then headed towards the bathroom.

"It's good to have you back, Loki," Thor called.

Loki smiled.


End file.
